


From the Ground Up

by ohjustpeachy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 21:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustpeachy/pseuds/ohjustpeachy
Summary: Tony and Steve broke up years ago and Tony never quite got over it. When they finally see each other again at Pepper's wedding, Rhodey convinces Tony this might just be his second chance.





	From the Ground Up

Tony is rifling through his closet when he hears the distant chime of his phone ringing. It should be right there on the bed… He steps out of his closet only to be reminded that he’d covered most of the bed with the contents of his drawers. He sighs, sifting through the piles quickly.

He uncovers it on the last ring and grabs at it. “Yeah?” He huffs into the phone. He wasn’t in the mood to chat with anyone. He had to pack for this wedding, and he still had to decide if he was going for “guy who cares The Most” look, or the depressing but easy, “blase, couldn’t be bothered ex-boyfriend” look. He didn’t have time for distractions.

“Hello to you too, Honey Pie.” Rhodey. Tony lets out a breath.

“Hey, sorry, I’m just… packing.” He finishes lamely.

“Good, so you’re still planning on coming, haven’t fled the country yet, that’s a good sign. Half the reason I’m calling, honestly.”

“Great. Can I go now?” Tony rolls his eyes, piling shirts together and folding discarded pairs of pants. He was going for a long weekend, not a year. Christ, what was he doing? He hated that Steve still had such an effect on him.

“Not yet. I wanted to make sure you’re okay. Not freaking out? I know you haven’t seen St--”

“ _Yeah._ Yep. I’m good. Great, as a matter of fact. It’s Pepper’s wedding, Rhodey, I wouldn’t miss it. Nor would I expect her to leave Steve out. I’m good. I mean Jesus, it’s been… _five years?_ Five years. I can handle one weekend.” Tony tries his best to be reassuring, but he’s babbling, which always backfires. Rhodes knows him too well for bullshit.

“Yeah? Last time I came down to visit you drank three margaritas and nearly cried at The Blue Iguana. The waitress gave you free guacamole because she thought _I_ was breaking up with you,” Rhodey laughs. Tony sighs again. He wasn’t about to tell Rhodey this, but he hadn’t been back there since that little incident. He _really_ missed those tacos come to think of it… He shakes his head and brings his mind back to the matter at hand.

“You weren’t complaining while you inhaled said free guacamole, now were you? Anyway, that was a one-off. I’m _fine_. Now, if you want me to make it on time, Platypus, please hang up and let me finish packing. I have to look good to…”

“Make Steve realize what he’s been missing these last five years?” Rhodey interjects.

“Exactly. I mean- what! No! I’m giving Pepper away. That’s a big job, I gotta look the part…”

He hangs up to the sound of Rhodey laughing, and tosses his phone back into the abyss of his bed. He sighs heavily; he really needed to get his act together.

\--

Tony should have seen the whole Pepper and Happy thing coming, but he’d been so tied up in the collapse of his own relationship that when he resurfaced after his months-long mourning period, they were already serious. Happy had popped the question about a year and a half ago now, and Tony was happy for them. _Honestly_ . Pepper had thrown herself into wedding planning the way she threw herself into most things she cared about, giving it one hundred and ten percent of her time and energy. She wasn’t quite a Bridezilla, but Tony figures she’s one misplaced favor away from becoming one. Not that he was stupid enough to voice that; he was reckless, sure, but he didn’t have an actual _death wish_.

When it came time to decide whose side Tony would stand on, things almost got ugly.

“Oh, come _on_ , Best Man. Gotta be! Tony,” Happy had given him an exasperated, _can you believe we’re even discussing this?_ look, but Tony had shrugged, refusing to implicate himself.

“No, he’s the Man of Honor,” Pepper had insisted. Tony didn’t bother pointing out that _Man of Honor_ wasn’t a real thing. After all, he was hardly an authority on what was and was not proper. Plus, it was kind of nice to have them argue over who got to have him. “After everything we’ve been through, I think it’ll be fun to have you at _my_ beck and call for once,” Pepper had smirked, and suddenly, having them fight over him didn’t seem like such a good thing.

In the end, he’d told them to flip a coin, draw straws, _something_ , and let him know where they landed. He would do anything for either of them, they knew that as well as he did, and he was already mentally writing speeches for both of them. Ten plus years of friendship… he’d need about three hours, give or take? Pepper’s face when he made that little suggestion was well worth the yelling. In the end, though, Pepper had asked him to give her away. The moment had made both of them more emotional than they’d be willing to admit, and Tony was honored.

He smiles, thinking back to it. Happy and Pepper, two of his oldest and best friends, marrying each other. Who’d have thought? If only Rhodey would have agreed to his “unmarried in ten years and we’ll marry each other” pact, they could be next. Instead, he was going to this wedding _alone_ , and seeing his ex-boyfriend for the first time in years to top it all off. He eyes the contents of his suitcase one last time before zipping it closed.  
  
“It’s one long weekend. It will be _fine_ ,” he says out loud to no one. If he repeats it like a mantra, maybe it will come true.

\--

A five hour drive upstate gives Tony the perfect opportunity to drive one of his favorite cars: an electric blue Audi R8 that he doesn’t get to drive nearly as often as he would like. The endless, lonely road unfurling out in front of him lets him press his foot to the gas, roll the windows down, and blare his music like a reckless 16-year-old. It was perfect; so much so that he was almost able to put Steve out of his mind.

Almost.

The rehearsal dinner was later that evening, and since Steve wasn’t in the wedding party, Tony probably wouldn’t have to see him until tomorrow. Thank god for small favors. He assumes Steve hadn’t changed much over the years, can already picture the way any suit would hug his perfect frame. He swallows; he’s so not ready for this. Though how could he _ever_ be ready for this?

Tony’s thoughts grind to a halt when his GPS chirps that he’d arrived at his destination. Fernwood Inn was gorgeous, and while he’d expected as much based on the pictures Pepper and Happy had shown him over the last few months, nothing compared to seeing it in person.

It’s an 18th century inn, complete with sprawling grounds, huge gardens and lawns, and a giant outdoor hearth. The entire place was theirs for the weekend. The rehearsal itself would be on The Sundial Garden, (it was _actually_ called that), and the dinner would be out under the sky on The Great Lawn. Pepper had wanted a fairytale wedding, and she was certainly getting it.

He parks and finds his way to the front of the main house, a gorgeous, white Colonial style inn with black shutters and window boxes full of flowers. It’s like stepping back in time, something out of a picture of someone’s dream wedding. Tony can’t help but smile at how _Pepper_ it all was. The old-fashioned nature of it no doubt appealing to Happy, too. Not quite _Downton Abbey_ , but still…

The wedding party and close friends were staying in the inn all weekend. There was something like fifteen rooms inside, and Pepper had promised not to put him and Steve too close together. Tony looks around and hopes such a promise is even possible. The house is beautiful, but everything is pretty tightly packed. He can imagine Pepper coming down those winding stairs though, train trailing behind her while the sun came streaming in through the surrounding windows. Tony would have to stand next to Happy and ensure he didn’t faint at the sight of her.

“Oh, Tony, you made it!” Pepper throws herself into his arms for a hug and he can feel her sigh of relief. Over his shoulder she says, “See, I _told_ you he wouldn’t disappear at the last minute! You can pay up later.” Happy’s laugh echoes through the room behind Tony.

“Pay up? What, you put _money_ on me not coming? Come on, first Rhodey now you guys? Have I inspired so little confidence in more than a _decade_ of friendship?” He’s kidding, but it stings a little, his best friends thinking he would abandon them on one of the happiest days of their lives.

Pepper rubs his shoulder reassuringly before Happy pulls him into a hug of his own. “Come on, let us give you the tour!” Pepper grabs Tony’s hand and leads him from room to room, explaining her vision for photos and line-ups and where everyone could get ready. Tony’s head was spinning by the end of it. If it ever came down to it, he’d elope.

They get to a long, dark-paneled room complete with an enormous pool table that Pepper announces is the Billiard Room.

“ _The Billiard Room?”_ Tony repeats, incredulous. “Is this the house _Clue_ was based on?”

“The game or the movie?” Happy asks, and Tony raises his eyebrows.

“Either one…”

“I don’t think so, but now I’m going to tell people it was. We can all be characters from the game; I call Colonel Mustard!” Happy exclaims. Wedding jitters or his usual exuberance, Tony can’t quite tell.

“I think the role of anyone named _Colonel_ should go to me…” A voice calls from the foyer.

Despite the shit he gave him earlier, relief floods through Tony at the sound of his best friend’s voice. This weekend wasn’t about him, he’s happy to be here for Pepper and Happy, thrilled, even, but… That doesn’t mean it would be easy. Having Rhodey here to help him through it would make it one million times better. He’d started calling Tony on his bullshit in college and hadn’t stopped since. If he got too morose, or worse, got any grandiose plans of talking to Steve after a few glasses of champagne, he knew he could count on Rhodey to reel him back in.

“Sour Patch, I beat you here? How is that even possible? Can you believe these two thought I wouldn’t show? I mean, _who_ would think such a thing?” Tony drawls.

“Shut _up_ Tones, I just walked through the door,” Rhodey tries to look exasperated but his smile gives him away. It’s like a reunion, the four of them together, like the old days, and they all kind of love it.

After hugs and greetings and another tour for Rhodey, Pepper leads them up the stairs and to their rooms. “I put you guys next to each other in case you want to relive your glory days with a sleepover,” she teases them.

The rooms are bright white, with natural light coming in from all angles. Simple quilts adorn the beds, and blue and yellow throw pillows add the perfect splash of color against the white. On the walls are detailed, hand-done paintings of the grounds. It truly could not be any more charming.

Tony tucks his suitcase into the corner, hangs his suit in the closet, and flops onto the bed, promptly closing his eyes. He might have fallen asleep had his door not creaked open as Rhodey made his way into the room, dropping down beside Tony. They were far from shy with each other after this long, and Tony doesn’t shift over or even lift his head.

“This place is crazy, man. How did they find something so perfectly _them?”_ Rhodey marvels.

“You know Pepper. I’m sure she didn’t rest until she scouted out the perfect location,” Tony chuckles. Rhodey makes a sound of agreement and they lay there in silence for a few minutes, Tony’s thoughts drifting, as they always seemed to, back to Steve.

“Tones…”

“What?” Tony sits up and raises his eyebrows.

“I swear I can hear you over-thinking about Steve. You’re not subtle, even when you’re silent.” Rhodey sits up now, too, concern written all over his face. “I’m worried about you this weekend,” he admits.

“Aw, Honey Bear, that’s sweet, but you don’t have to. I’m _fine_.” Tony insists.

“You keep saying you’re fine, but I _know_ you’re not fine. I mean, even I can’t help but think…” Rhodey trails off and Tony’s stomach sinks a little, knowing where he’s going with this.

“Don’t,” Tony says, almost pleading. “I know,” he murmurs despite himself.

“…This should be you guys getting married. Or you should already _be_ married…” So they were doing this, then. Not even an hour into the weekend. Tony gives a defeated sigh and shoves a hand through his hair.

“But we’re not. Wasn’t meant to be.” He attempts a shrug he knows Rhodey sees right through. He had never told him the whole story. Had never actually told _anyone_ the whole sordid tale, but now didn’t seem like the time. Their best friends were getting married. This weekend wasn’t about him. It would all be fine. He repeats his mantra first in his head and then out loud for Rhodey, who looks at him doubtfully, not breaking eye contact.

“Did you ever consider that this could be a second chance? Or at the very least, an opportunity to clear the air? Maybe some real closure will help you move on, Tony,” Rhodey attempts. Tony appreciates the effort, he really does, but he doesn’t dare let himself dwell on the possibility of _second chances_ with Steve Rogers. His heart wouldn’t survive losing him a second time. Hell, it was barely surviving now, and it had been five years. He shoots Rhodey a look that he hopes says _don’t start with me_.

“Did you come in here to psychoanalyze me or to take a nap, because I know what _my_ plans are until rehearsal…” Tony grumbles, laying himself back down. There was no way the beds were as old as the inn ; they were _way_ too comfortable for that. Rhodey huffs but lays down, silence falling over them. Tony would tell him the whole story later. Ideally after a drink.

\--

Tony doesn’t even end up sleeping, despite his insistence on napping. He would have thought after a five hour drive and the anxiety of finally seeing Steve after so long, he wouldn’t have any trouble passing out for a few hours. But Rhodey starts snoring and Tony starts thinking, and well, it’s all downhill from there. _Just like the old days._

He does lay there with his eyes closed for a few minutes before Steve’s face floats into memory. Would the five years feel all too real when they saw each other? Or would they shuffle awkwardly, lock eyes, only to have it feel like _no_ time had passed? Tony feels vaguely sick with anticipation and uncertainty. Deep down, he knows he doesn’t stand a chance if Steve so much as looks at him. He never did; there was too much in those eyes. Some people wear their heart on their sleeve, Tony being one of them, but Steve’s eyes were truly a window to his soul. Tony is breathless at the thought of those blue eyes, the way they crinkled in the corners and lit up when Tony did something he found particularly endearing. The softness that settled into them each night, tired but unbelievably happy as they fell asleep together. The way they darkened in heartbreak in the end, shuttering against Tony’s words…

No. No, too far. Way too far. Tony heaves himself up and off the bed. A shower is all he needed. It would give him a chance to clear his head, and leave enough time to change and make his way downstairs with plenty of time before the rehearsal. Prove to Pepper and Happy how accountable and completely _fine_ he was with this whole weekend once and for all.

\--

He’s straightening his tie when Rhodey finally wakes up. Tony was starting to wonder if he was in a coma.

“Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, Sour Patch,” he teases with a wry smile. Rhodey could sleep through the apocalypse.

“Let me guess, you didn’t sleep at all,” Rhodey shot back.

“That would be correct, Tony nods at his reflection once and then turns toward the bed. “So, what do you think?” he asks. Sure, he knows he looks good, the suit was expensive and looked it, his hair was coiffed to perfection, but it was nice to hear it either way.

Rhodey raises his eyebrows appreciatively. “Haven’t seen you in a tie in forever. Hell, I haven’t seen you without motor oil in your hair in months. You always did clean up nice, Stark.” Rhodey doesn’t have to voice that Tony did all of this for Steve for Tony to hear it loud and clear in his voice.

And sure, he wanted to look nice on the off chance Steve showed up early. The man was punctual almost to a fault, often arriving places an entire hour before they were supposed to meet, when he knew Tony counted being five minutes late as “on time.” The rehearsal dinner was semi-formal anyway. Who wouldn’t want to dress up and walk the grounds as the sun set, wine glass in hand? It was a fairytale. And while he might not have his own fairytale right now, it didn’t mean Tony couldn’t enjoy Pepper’s while keeping an eye out for a certain blue-eyed blond.

Rhodey’s words floated through his head for the millionth time. _Did you ever consider that this could be a second chance?_ Tony had thought about Steve and second chances, and all the things they had or hadn’t said approximately ten million times over the last five years. One thousand, eight-hundred and twenty-five days, give or take a few weeks. Sure, it was a lot of time to think about your ex, but Tony was nothing if not obsessive

“Earth to Tony Stark, come in Tony,” Rhodey breaks into his reverie and Tony rolls his eyes.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“About what I said earlier, I hope?” As if Tony would give him the satisfaction.

“About how if you’d agreed to marry me years ago I wouldn’t have to be thinking about any of this,” Tony says instead.

“Right, that’s what would solve all your problems,” Rhodey gives him a playful shove and makes his way into the bathroom for his own shower, while Tony makes heads downstairs.

The rehearsal runs quickly and smoothly, Happy and Pepper beaming at each other so hard someone shouted at them to save some for the real thing. Tony thought it was sweet, though. He’d always loved weddings. Watching people on their happiest day. Seeing the groom’s face absolutely light up when his soon-to-be wife came down the aisle. He cried every time it happened, at nearly every wedding he’d been to. He’d be the first to admit it.

Rhodey had joined them afterward in his own freshly-pressed suit, and everyone was mulling around the fireplace on the lawn with their glasses of wine, ironing out final details for tomorrow (Pepper) and catching up with old friends (everyone else). Tony was standing back, taking it all in, thinking, again, about what it would be like to be watching this with Steve at his side. Would they be grinning at each other, both thinking _this will be us, someday_? Would their day have already come and gone? They could be settling into years of marriage, probably would be if Steve had had his way.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Pepper says, appearing out of nowhere.

“Ah, my thoughts go for a lot more than that. Not sure you can afford me.” He puts an arm around her shoulder and tells her again how happy he is for her, how beautiful everything looks.

“It’s perfect, Pep, seriously. You deserve it,” he says in a rare moment of earnestness. She smiles at him and pulls him into a hug.

“Thank you, Tony. You know that means a lot. And I know this weekend can’t be easy for you, so … thank you.” They stay like that for a minute or two, two old friends who know each other inside and out. Tony relaxes for the first time since arriving.

“Whoa, whoa, I’m not missing out on this! Group hug,” Rhodey calls, throwing himself into them, followed shortly by Happy. Tony thinks again that regardless of anything else, he has the best friends in the world, and his heart is incredibly full.

\--

Dinner is delicious, and they’re all full of too much food, all grown on the premises no less, and warm from the endless bottles of wine, when Tony and Rhodey drift away and make themselves comfortable on two lounge chairs by the dimming fire.

“So,” Rhodey starts, and Tony knows he isn’t escaping the conversation this time. He sighs, sinking back in his chair and taking one more sip of wine. He’s not a big drinker, these days, but the occasion calls for it.

“Yeah,” Tony sighs, not quite ready to tell the story, but knowing now is as good a time as any. It’s dark, and Rhodey won’t have to see the look in his eyes. More than that, Tony wouldn’t have to see the look in _his_.

“Steve wanted to get married,” Tony says, feeling Rhodey’s stunned inhale, can hear his mind firing off questions.

“But you always made it seem like…” Rhodey can’t even finish the sentence. Tony knows how he made it sound. He’d been heartbroken for so long and there was no one to blame but himself.

“Like it was Steve’s choice to end it, yeah. I know. It was just easier than explaining that I was the cause of my own misery for five years,” Tony shrugs, staring into the dregs of his wine glass. “Everything happened so fast, and he was so young, and I’m, well, _me_. I was petrified he would change his mind, or resent me after a few months of marriage. I didn’t want him to miss out on his life, saddling on to me. Ten years is a huge age gap, Rhodey.”

“Steve is wise beyond _both_ your years, Tony, he knew what he was doing. He doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. No one _asks to marry_ someone they don’t want to be with.” Rhodey is still stunned, shaking his head as he speaks.

“I thought I was doing the right thing for both of us!” Tony argues, more for his own benefit than anything else.

“Look. I think you’re crazy, but I love you, you know that. And _I_ happen to know that Steve Rogers isn’t dating anyone right now. There was a guy for about six months or so, but…” Rhodey says, quietly. “This is your chance, Tones. I’ve watched you mope around for the better part of five years, sleeping with people you don’t care about, stretching yourself thinner and thinner. Talk to Steve. Just have a conversation and see where it goes.”

And, fuck, Rhodes always _was_ the voice of reason between them. Tony just sighs and nods his head, knowing Rhodey can’t see it in the dark. They sit in silence for the rest of the evening, before standing and making their way to bed long after everyone else had called it a night.

\--

Tony wakes the next morning to a grayish blue silence. The sun isn’t up yet, and he imagines he’s the first one awake at such an ungodly hour. He shuffles quietly down the creaking stairs, coffee the only thing on his mind. He’s still half asleep as he makes his way through the kitchen, hair a mess and eyes mostly closed when he walks headfirst into a strong, solid chest.

“Sorry, sorry, I…” Tony mumbles, blinking and looking up, only to feel his stomach absolutely plummet, a roaring in his ears.  

“Tony. Hi.” Tony freezes at the voice. He knows that voice; he _loves_ that voice.

Of course it’s Steve, at four in the goddamn morning, before he had coffee, or enough time to put on any of the clothes he’d packed for this eventual moment. He had morning breath and bedhead and Steve was staring at him open-mouthed, blue eyes bright despite the hour, blond hair falling in front of his forehead like it always had. He’s dressed for a long drive in loose-fitting jeans and a t-shirt that hugged him the way Tony would love to right about now. He’s holding a garment bag over his arm, a simple duffle bag hanging from his shoulder. He looks _perfect_.

 

Tony realizes he’s been silent way too long and opens his mouth to say… something. Anything.

“Steve,” Tony breathes his name, hating how stupidly vulnerable it sounds. This was _not_ how he’d imagined this moment going, and he’d pictured it thousands of times. 

“Tony. Hi,” Steve repeats, apparently as unprepared for this as Tony is. “I just got here,” he says. “Super early, I know. Classic Steve. I was hoping to just find an empty room and crash for a couple hours before things get started…” Steve says all in a rush, looking anywhere but at Tony, his cheeks going a delicate shade of pink so endearing Tony finds he can’t look directly at it.

“Sure, yeah,” he says, shuffling his feet and wishing for coffee. Or even better, whiskey.

“So... “ Steve sounds apologetic, eyes glancing behind Tony, and he realizes he’s blocking the stairs.

“Sorry, yeah, go ahead,” Tony says, and just like that, Steve disappears again. He’d survived, but his heart was beating at an interval that had to be dangerous, and he was pretty sure his whole body was sweating.

He makes a pot of coffee, as strong as he can manage, and slumps at the kitchen table, head in his hands, replaying the whole thing over and over. Steve looked _so_ good. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at four in the morning, all soft apologetic tones and conflicted blue eyes. This was going to be worse than he thought.

Tony lets his pity party continue for another ten minutes before he makes his way back upstairs, barging into Rhodey’s room without giving a thought to the time or the fact that the man might be sounds asleep. He rolls over with a groan, opening one of his eyes.

“We really _are_ back at MIT…” He says. “What’s going on? What time is it?” He asks, like an afterthought. He rubs at his eyes and takes in Tony’s ashen face before sitting up straight and asking again.

“What’s- Tony, are you okay?” He’s worried and Tony just collapses on the bed beside him.

“Steve’s here. I was going to make coffee and walked right into him. Gaped like a goldfish for I don’t know how long before I got it together enough to even say anything.” Tony sighs.

“Tony so help me if the two of you don’t get it together this weekend and give me some _peace_.” Rhodey throws himself back down onto his bed, letting Tony lay there beside him, quiet falling between them.

\--

Tony manages to get himself ready, his suit, tie, and shirt combination landing somewhere between his “guy who cares The Most” and “Blase ex-boyfriend who can’t be bothered” looks, and he’s positive he’s sweating again as he and Rhodey make their way to the lawn for the ceremony. 

“Tony, breathe. You’re going to be _fine_. I’m here whatever happens,” Rhodey mutters in his ears as they approach. Steve is sitting in the front row, right where Tony would be sitting after he walked Pepper up the aisle. Well, down the beautifully manicured lawn to the equally gorgeous archway. It’s covered in flowers and ike everything else, looks like it came straight from the pages of a storybook.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Tony takes another deep breath and lets the inn’s manager lead him to the rest of the wedding party, lining up and waiting for the music to start.

Like he knew she would, Pepper looks incredible. “Happy’s going to pass out,” Tony jokes, drawing her into a careful hug. “I hope you have EMTs here somewhere…”

Pepper just laughs and pulls him in tighter.

“You look beautiful. I’m so, so happy for you guys,” Tony says, voice impossibly quiet. He expected to cry, but he didn’t expect to start quite so soon.

“Stop that, you’ll get me going!” Pepper swats at his harm and chokes out a laugh.

They make it down the aisle without a hitch, though, Tony handing one of his best friends to another, and he takes a seat beside Steve, of all people. The universe was really testing him this weekend. He sneaks a look at him, and his throat tightens again at the sight. Steve is looking back at him, eyes bright with his own unshed tears, and Tony can’t help but wish they were for him.

The music plays. Vows are made and rings exchanged and there’s not a dry eye in the place by the end, least of all Tony’s. It’s beautiful, and not for the first time, Tony wonders how he could have ever been crazy enough to think he wouldn’t want such a thing with Steve.

\--

The reception is on the lawn, sunset melting away until it was just lanterns on tables under the stars. There were long tables on the patio, with a huge, inviting dance floor and a dimly lit tent for drinks. Once darkness falls, the feeling is nothing short of magical. Tony is sitting with people he’s known for years, making small talk and reminiscing, but he’s a mile away. Every time he thinks about getting up and talking to Steve, offering an olive branch that’s probably five years too late, he chickens out. He goes for another drink, or dances with someone he hasn’t seen in years; anything to keep him from facing his own fucked up feelings.

He’s in the middle of one such dance when Steve asks to cut in, and suddenly, he’s letting himself be led, Steve’s strong arms around him like they’d never left; they’re closer than they’ve been in years, and Tony is finding it increasingly hard to breathe. His heart is beating so fast he thinks he might be the one needing EMTs soon. Steve smells exactly how Tony remembers; a heady mix of woodsy and mint and something else that’s distinctly _Steve_. Tony’s mouth goes completely dry, mind racing back to all the times he’d lost himself in Steve, and that scent that always reminded him he was safe, he was home. He was loved. He’s still struggling to breathe properly when Steve opens his mouth, and, in a moment of sheer panic, Tony pulls back, excusing himself and neary running in the opposite direction like the coward he knew he was. It was all too much, suddenly. He needed air.

He goes to the bar, under the pretense of getting Pepper a glass of wine, when he turns and bumps into Steve again.

“Tony,” Steve says, not a trace of surprise in his voice this time, and Tony realizes that he had followed him there, not letting him slip away so easily. Not again.

“Can we talk?” He’s so composed, even after their failed dance, and looking somehow more perfect now than he had that morning, in his navy blue suit, complete with a silk silver pocket square and shined leather shoes. Tony couldn’t have picked a better outfit for him if he tried.

“Uh, sure, I just have to deliver this to the bride,” Tony says, holding the wine glass up. Had he always been this tongue-tied around Steve?

“Of course. Go see Pepper, then meet me by the fire?” Steve smiles, and Tony can only nod, not lifting his eyes to Steve’s blinding smile and warm blue eyes, afraid of what it might do to him if he did. Tony’s glad that as ever, Steve is so practical, so willing to approach him seemingly without a care in the world.

Tony hands off the drink and is walking towards the hearth way too quickly for his liking. He was ready to admit that he was wrong, but would Steve be ready to hear it? He hated to assume, but based on how Steve had been acting so far, Tony dared to hope for the first time in years. It terrified him.

He was trembling just a little as Steve came into view, sitting in one of the same chairs Tony and Rhodey had sit in just the night before. Tony stops in his tracks, looking at him, wondering how he ever could have thought they would be better off without each other. Why was his first instinct always to run away from what he wanted — what he needed most?

“Tony,” Steve stands when he sees him, the whole thing feeling stupidly formal all the sudden. Maybe this wouldn’t be the second chance Tony had been hoping for. Maybe Steve was about to tell him they should do something _really_ impossible, like be friends or something. Tony’s heart is in his mouth as he meets Steve’s eyes, expressive as ever, for the first time that weekend.

“Steve,” he says. He’s not sure what to do now. He feels like they should be shaking hands or something, but that’s too business-like. A hug, way too familiar, especially with how the dance ended, Tony thinks, embarrassed now at how he’d acted.

Steve’s arms are around him before he can finish the thought, though, so apparently a hug’s not too familiar for him. Tony is overwhelmed by the warmth of Steve’s chest, still strong and firm as ever, coupled with that heady scent that is so distinctly Steve.

“So. How’ve you been?” Steve asks when they break apart, way too soon, if you asked Tony.

Tony laughs a little. “Can we start with something less… intense?” He asks, and Steve gives him a look like he’s not getting off that easy.

So they start talking about their days. Their jobs. How they’ve spent the intervening years. It’s tough until it isn’t, until they’re falling back into easy patterns, sitting on the patio like they do it every night of their lives. The soft touches and brushes of hands that work their way into their conversations feel like aloe on sunburned skin. They exchange laughs and long looks that Tony doesn’t stop to analyze, so wrapped up in Steve and how much he’d missed moments exactly like this one.

Tony almost can’t believe how easy it is, but then again, this is Steve. Honest and earnest to a fault. A real live boy scout. A silence falls between them, and Tony knows it’s now or never. Their glasses are nearly empty, the candles flickering. The evening was wrapping up, and maybe it’s the magic of the inn and the fairy-tale setting, but Tony takes a deep breath and leans over just an inch.

“I’m sorry.” And just like that, just two words, the dam bursts. Five years of regrets and questions bubble to the surface and he’s powerless against the force of it. He needs Steve to know. He was wrong and for once, he isn’t afraid to admit _how_ wrong.

“Tony, you don’t have to say anything, I’m-” Steve tries, voice and confidence faltering for the first time that weekend.

“I do, though. I thought- I don’t know what I thought, not really. That I was doing you a favor, I guess, by saving you from my mess, or any regrets about being with someone older than you. But instead, I made an even bigger mess, one that we both had to clean up, separately, and for years. At least, I have. But I… I’ve really missed you, Steve. I thought if I was the one to end things, to make you realize you were making a mistake, it would somehow hurt less. I shouldn’t have taken that choice away from you. I’m sorry.” He breathes the last sentence so quietly, it’s like a prayer. “I know we can’t start over but I think, if you would want to, I think we could try.”

It’s all out there, his whole heart, splayed out before them, for Steve to pick up or cast aside, and Tony’s breathing is shallow now, nervous and unsure but relieved, too. If nothing else, he could go home tomorrow and tell Rhodey he had tried.

“I don’t want to start over,” Steve says, and Tony feels the breath drain from his lungs. Well. There it was.

“Okay, sure, yeah, of course not,” Tony starts, standing up and knocking the chair over in the process. He couldn’t wait to get away from Steve, away from his bottomless blue eyes, his broken heart breaking all over again with no one to pick up the pieces.

“I don’t want to start over,” Steve repeats, and really, Tony heard him the first time. Saying it again is just _cruel_.

“... I want to keep going. I don’t want to go back, Tony. We’ve lost enough time already. I won’t lie to you, though. What happened hurt for… a long time,” Steve admits, and Tony is pretty sure he’s still not breathing. Steve reaches down, twining their fingers together like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Tony all but sags into him. Steve still wanted this. Him. He wanted to _move forward_.

“Steve,” is all Tony manages before he surges forward and crushes their mouths together, fisting his hands in Steve’s formerly pristine shirt. They lose themselves in a deliciously familiar clash of wine-red lips and tongues and five years worth of _hoping-wanting-praying_ that _nothing_ could come between them just then.

When they do separate, Steve leans his head against Tony’s, a smile lighting up his eyes.

“So. We’re doing this. No running away without asking me this time, right?” He asks, and his voice catches just a little and Tony hates himself for ever making Steve feel like he wasn’t enough.

“Right. I couldn’t… I would never do that to you again,” Tony says firmly, and this is a promise he knows he’ll keep to the end.

“Good.” Steve kisses him again, light and sweet. “I want the choice. Because no matter what happens, or how old we get, or what you tell yourself, Tony, I will choose you _every_ time.”

Tony nods, leans in and rests his head against Steve’s chest again. He would choose him, too. Had made that choice, for good, a long time ago.

\--

The next morning, bags packed and hangovers abound, there’s a post-wedding brunch. Just close friends, and Pepper and Happy. Outside, they’re bleary eyed and tired, a little nauseous, but the cool breeze and morning light soaking into their skin helps a bit. Tony is all but sitting in Steve’s lap, not wanting to be away from him for even a minute, not yet.

He leans over and pops a grape from his fruit salad into Steve’s mouth, smiles when Steve swallows and leans over to kiss the palm of his hand.

“Some of us are _eating breakfast_ , Tones, lord above.” Rhodey is smiling though, happy for his friend in a way that lets him pick on him just a little. Steve’s blush reaches his ears, though, and Tony wants to kiss every inch of it.

“Sorry, Platypus, we’ve got a _lot_ of time to make up for,” Tony presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek, warm against his lips.

“Sorry, Colonel Rhodes,” Steve says, sheepish. “It’s just… well, we won’t, uh,” Steve stumbles over his words, looking over at Tony as if for help. He just laughs.

“Oh please, at ease, soldier. Just do me a favor and take care of each other this time. I need a _break_.” Rhodey gives them both a withering stare, and they nod, staring over at each other, sappy smiles still firmly in place.

Tony mock salutes him, laying his arm across the back of Steve’s chair and rubbing his thumb across the nape of his neck.

“Oh, and hey,” Tony says, thinking back to Rhodey’s patient insistence that this weekend could be his second chance. “Thank you for your service.” Tony winks.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the Dan and Shay song of the same name!


End file.
